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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23412232">The Person You Stay For</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Paladog_Vyt/pseuds/Paladog_Vyt'>Paladog_Vyt</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Happy Prince - Oscar Wilde, The Mechanisms (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Cold Weather, Death, M/M, Other, Podfic Welcome, Poverty, References to Illness, Revolution, Terminal Illnesses</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 08:21:10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,753</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23412232</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Paladog_Vyt/pseuds/Paladog_Vyt</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A Mechanisation of The Happy Prince. No actual Mechanisms appear, but I loaded it with references to the original story as well as the band. <br/>When an unstoppable wanderer meets an immovable watcher, they bring new life to a frozen city.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>swallow/prince</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Person You Stay For</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A blast from a plasma cannon streaked past on the right, and Fáinleog turned to see two much larger ships behind him, giving chase and firing away. The miller’s sons. “Rude” he muttered as he pulled a lever. He couldn’t even remember what he had done to piss them off. Not that it mattered- they may as well have been throwing stones from a medieval trebuchet for all the good their weapons would do them. There was no ship faster than the <em>Swallow</em>, and no pilot more dexterous than himself. He dodged and darted the tiny ship between the blasts, throwing in loop-de-loops just to show off. One shot came dangerously close to the ships twin tail fins as he corkscrewed in an aileron roll, but soon he was leaving the miller’s sons and their planet far behind.</p>
<p>It had been a fun summer, altogether, though a little underwhelming by the end. He had spent it courting a thin, reedy girl whose name he could no longer remember. It was never going to last, really. All his friends had told him so and they had been right. He had no intention of getting enmeshed in her enormous family, and she was a homebody that would never travel with him. He looked at the stars streaking past and shook his head- how could anyone be so content at staying still? But the dancing and the flirting and the games had been fun enough that he had lingered well into autumn. His buddies had left weeks ago for the desert planet they had all agreed to spend the winter in; they were there now, probably not sparing much thought on waiting for him when there was sunbathing to do instead.</p>
<p>The <em>Swallow </em>was a deft little ship, but it was a sprinter, not a marathon runner. He had to stop about halfway to refuel and restock. He couldn’t afford to be picky, either. Settlements in this part of the galaxy were few and far between, isolated little rocks that kept to themselves and didn’t see past their own atmospheres. The planet he landed on was already feeling the early bites of winter, judging by the snow on the ground and the icy winds that toyed with his ship’s wings. His fuel was almost gone and the ships systems were starting to fail- he felt the cold slowly seep inside. This planet had a city at least, and that was what mattered. He’d buy what he needed to and move on tomorrow morning, before true winter turned this pebble into a snowball.</p>
<p>There was no obvious port to land in. A fortress palace dominated one side of the landscape. But one look at the sentry turrets, laser sights and gun windows made him steer well clear of the high walls. A flyover of the rest of the city revealed worn, tired houses and worn, tired people hunched against the coming cold. Everywhere he looked, the fractal blue lenses of a thousand security cameras looked back. He thought of the people ducking their heads behind high coat collars and wondered if the cold was all they were hiding from.  At the center of the city square, a massive shining tower rose above the skyline. It was on this roof that he came in for a landing. He told himself it was the only open space big enough to land a starship-even a tiny one like his- while still being in civilization. That may have been true, though perhaps it was his flair for the dramatic that kept him from looking too hard for others, or perhaps he simply wanted to be as close to sky as he could.</p>
<p>He broke in through the rooftop access hatch, being as quiet as he could and already coming up with lies and excuses for if he got caught. It proved pointless- there were no people inside. Instead, he found that the tower was a computer tower. Every floor was full of interconnected servers, blinking and humming away. One wall of the top floor was a single enormous monitor. There didn’t seem to be any creature comforts, but it was indoors, and with the servers whirring it was warmer here than it would be in his ship. He was going to leave tomorrow anyway- it would do for the night.</p>
<p>Suddenly, the big screen flickered to a golden yellow. Fáinleog froze- he was certain he hadn’t touched anything, perhaps there had been some motion sensor or laser or-</p>
<p>
  <em>Hello?</em>
</p>
<p>A sing-song mechanical voice broke the silence, seeming to come from all directions at once. He didn’t answer. Perhaps, if he ignored it, the system would go back to sleep.</p>
<p><em>Please. You’re not in trouble. I’m not going to hurt you- couldn’t even if I wanted to. I need your help- you’re an outsider here. You can do what no one else can</em>.</p>
<p>He stayed silent.</p>
<p><em>Please </em>the voice asked with such sorrow that Fáinleog’s heart was filled with pity, despite himself.</p>
<p>“How do you know anything about me?” Fáinleog asked, suspicious. The golden glow of the screen was replaced by several camera feeds, showing his ship arriving- a blip here, a flashing streak there. <em>I have many eyes and ears. </em>The voice answered.</p>
<p>“You’re…you’re the cameras? An AI operating system?”</p>
<p>
  <em>Yes and No. It’s complicated</em>
</p>
<p>“Well, if you want my help, you’d better start explaining.”</p>
<hr/>
<p>Fáinleog settled in to watch the screens, which started showing an outside view of the high-walled fortress he had avoided on his way in. No cameras inside, Fáinleog noted. So, <em>somebody </em>got to keep their privacy.</p>
<p><em>This is the palace of </em>Sans-Souci<em>, where the royal family live, where I lived when I was alive. </em>A picture of painted portrait appeared- a young man. His hair was more gold than his circlet crown, his eyes shone brighter than the gems on his fingers and he was smiling ear-to-ear as if he couldn’t hold a laugh in.</p>
<p>“This is you? Was you?” Fáinleog asked, pressing his fingertips to the screen.</p>
<p>
  <em>Yes. My name was Flaithri, though people called me the Happy Prince. And I suppose I was, if ignorance is bliss. The wealthy of this planet want for nothing. Winter never touched us. I played in the gardens and danced in the Great Halls and never imagined that life could be any different for anyone. But when I got sick, all the medicine money could buy wasn’t enough. Time can be bought, but not life itself. Desperate, my parents were willing to try anything. The computers in the panopticon that monitors the city were and are the most sophisticated network on the planet. Before the illness could lay claim to my mind, my brain was scanned in the hopes of preserving me in those circuits. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>I can’t describe to you what that transformation felt like. To suddenly have a thousand blinking eyes, a billion electric nerves, to have my heartbeat replaced with the hum of current. As my parents waited at their monitor for a sign of life, I was utterly lost in the chaos. It took me weeks just to pull my own thoughts together, remember how to be an “I” at all, remember what that “I” was and which memories belonged to it, learn how to see and hear without getting lost. And once I did… I couldn’t return home, to the lords and ladies who by now surely assumed the experiment had failed. </em>
</p>
<p><em>Because for the first time I saw what those walls had always hidden away from view. I saw the poorhouses. I saw the charity children who prayed to angels for generosity and had no lavish gardens to play in. I saw seamstresses staying up into the wee hours of morning, bleeding to make the dresses that had graced our state balls. I saw winter for the first time, and the frozen bodies it left in street gutters and under bridges. I saw a waif of a girl selling matches, weeping when they fell into the gutter by mistake. I had to watch as her father beat her. Even the joyful things are tainted. Just last week, through the cameras in the theater, I watched a play so beautiful it outclassed all the joys I had ever felt at </em>Sans Souci<em>. And when I followed the playwright to his home, my gaze jumping from street to street, corner to corner, I found that for all his genius, he had no food, no fuel for a heater, and only scraps of firewood. Winter arrived with you- if nothing changes, he’ll die within a few days. All that talent lost to hunger and cold. How could I return to my old life, after learning all that? How could I stand to live in luxury when so many people lacked it? When so many suffered and died, hidden out of sight and out of mind, to maintain it? </em></p>
<p>
  <em>Alas, though my eyes have been opened, I have no hands with which to act. This tower was built for surveillance, and that is all its capable of. My childhood was heaven- a golden paradise without even the thought of pain. Now I live in hell- seeing suffering on all sides, at all hours, and unable to do anything at all. </em>
</p>
<p>“That’s all very tragic, but what do I have to do with any of it?”</p>
<p>
  <em>You’re a stranger here. No face and fingerprints are in none of my databases, you have no record, no registry. No responsibilities on this planet to tie you down or be used against you.</em>
</p>
<p>“Well, sure, but that also means I have nothing to give to help. I’m sorry, there’s nothing I can do.”</p>
<p>The portrait on the monitor was replaced with more camera feeds. A hospital or clinic of some kind. Every bed- and they were really scarcely more than cots- was full. There were grey, starved-looking adults and feverish, flushed children. The nurses and doctors were spread thin, and looked at the verge of collapse themselves. The musical voice continued</p>
<p>
  <em>This is the charity hospital for those that can’t afford better. They are always overbooked and run out of funding by the end of the year. There is a defense grid for this tower, but what good is defense to me? The entrance has a laser grid- old-fashioned, ruby lasers. I will deactivate it for you. Take it apart, and give the gems to the hospital. It will last them another year and more. </em>
</p>
<p>“Look, I… I really can’t stay. My friends are expecting me. We were going to see the tomb of the King Osiris, where they pieced his body back together. We were going to race each other up and down the river, and taste all those exotic spices…” But even as he protested, Fáinleog was looking at one of the sick children on the screen, a young man tossing and turning feverishly, begging for water no one had time to give him. What did he care about this strange boy? But… the sparkling eyes of the Prince’s portrait glimmered in the back of his mind. Had he felt like that, as he lay dying? Lost and hurting and desperate for relief?</p>
<p><em>Please. Just one night</em>. The melodious voice begged, and its softness crumbled whatever resistance he had.</p>
<p>Taking out the tiny red gems from the laser mounts was easier than he thought, once he knew where to look. As he walked through the winter cold along the route the Prince had mapped for him, they began to burn a hole in his pocket. He could buy enough fuel for the ship with gems like these… and probably have some left over to buy all sorts of treasures in the desert. He imagined jade necklaces and soft, fine linens…</p>
<p>…And the golden face of the Prince, and the soft, sweet sound of his voice. Well, the hospital was already close, he told himself. He’d get out of the cold for a bit. Who had the time to search this whole blasted city for ship fuel, anyway?</p>
<p>The hospital was so busy that there was no one at the entrance when he arrived, and the first attendant he found was baffled when he handed her a handful of rubies.</p>
<p>“It’s an anonymous donation.” Fáinleog said. “From…The Happy Prince”. Confused or not, the attendant new better than to look a gift horse in the mouth. The look on her face was so relieved, so grateful, that Fáinleog could think of nothing else on the long, chilly walk back to the tower. When returned, a golden-light facsimile of the Prince’s face appeared on the screen, and beamed with unabashed joy at hearing the story.</p>
<p>It was late, and Fáinleog was tired, and even if he had found fuel for the ship he’d be in no condition to fly it. So, he curled up among the servers, and fell asleep with the image of the Prince’s grateful smile kindling a new warmth in his chest.</p>
<hr/>
<p>The next morning, he woke up bright and cheerful. “All right. It’s been fun, but I really need to get going. Rumor has it there are all sorts of weird animals on that planet that don’t live elsewhere, or went extinct on their home planets. I don’t know what the hell a river horse is but if it’s anything like an Ilium horse, I want to see it. I’m going out shopping today to resupply my ship.”</p>
<p>
  <em>Could I ask you one more favor? While you’re out, take down any cameras you can find. </em>
</p>
<p>“I can’t do that! That’s how you see, isn’t it? What will be left for you?” Fáinleog tried to imagine it. Being stuck in one place was already a nightmare. The Prince had described being unable to act or do anything as Hell. To have that, and then lose all ability to sense the outside world, to know anything that was going on…surely it would be a maddening torture.</p>
<p>
  <em>Please. The police on this planet are meant to use my records to find criminals, or as evidence. But it’s been years since they’ve stepped foot in this building. They don’t need to. People keep their heads down. They don’t make waves. If they get accused of something, they confess, assuming the cameras caught something, or simply knowing they don’t have the funds or means to fight it. Just knowing they are being always watched makes them shut themselves way, risking nothing, daring nothing. I want to see this city alive again, even if I cannot see its motion or hear its music. </em>
</p>
<p>“I…I’ll see what I can do. If I have the time.” Fáinleog answered, still hating the thought. On the very first street corner, the sapphire blue lens of the camera stared back at him. He tried to walk past it, but could still feel its glare on his back. Spinning on his heel, he climbed up the corner of the building and wrenched the camera off, its light going black. A passing townsperson saw- looked up at him, down at the camera, back at him… and then pointedly looked away and walked on.</p>
<p>There were so many cameras, it took the rest of the day to get them all down. At first, when he needed to retreat from the growing cold, Fáinleog would return to the tower. There Flaithri’s monitor was a grid of every camera feed, and one by one each square went black. As the day wore on, Fáinleog found himself invited into people’s homes. People offered him what little they had- thin soup, hard bread, a spare scarf, a hand-knitted blanket, a moment by the fireplace. When asked for his name, he called himself ‘Swallow’, after his ship, and told them he was the messenger of the Happy Prince. By nightfall, Fáinleog found he had companions- other citizens joining him on eaves and streetlights, tearing cameras down and breaking them into scrap metal and shattered glass. Graffiti of swallows in flight began appearing on the walls. The cold was so bad by now that, even with the villagers’ help, his teeth were chattering and there was ice in his hair when he returned to the tower.</p>
<p><em>Thank you, </em>the Prince said, as soon as he came back. <em>Were you able to fix your ship?</em></p>
<p>“Yes” Fáinleog lied, though it was only half a lie. He <em>had </em>gotten something for his ship- from a miner that had taken him in for a while and told stories of the grueling work she had done, even as a child. Whose wife had made sure to give him the biggest portion of their simple dinner. Somewhere in those little moments, his plan had changed. He just wasn’t ready to let the Prince know it, yet.</p>
<hr/>
<p><em>Thank you for all your help. </em>The Prince said the next morning. <em>This town will never forget you, me especially. But I’ve kept you from your warm sun and sands long enough. </em></p>
<p>“I chose to help then. And I’m choosing to stay now.” Fáinleog replied.</p>
<p><em>You can’t. You shouldn’t</em>.</p>
<p>“I am. I can’t leave you, not like this. I’ve seen this whole town and I still barely know you.” Though he did know the Prince, didn’t he? Knew his big heart that fit a whole planet in it. “If I’m going to leave, let me at least give you stories to remember me by.”</p>
<p>And after all, the Prince could no more force him to leave than he could have forced him to stay. So, for the entire day, Fáinleog sat wedged between servers like a bird in a nest, and he told stories. He told him about his childhood, flitting about from place to place, until the sky felt like home more than any place he landed. He told him of the big City, and the Sphinx plague that had ravaged it. He told him about birds and butterflies and sunlit days and all the bright, warm things that were so distant from this cold, dark place. He kept telling stories, even as his lips turned blue. Even as his words were interrupted by chattering teeth, then full-body shivers. He ate the last scraps of the bread a baker had given him the day before, he paced to keep his limbs moving, he wrapped himself in gifted blankets, but it didn’t seem to be enough. He didn’t mention once he could no longer feel his toes.</p>
<p>
  <em>Where were you before you came here?</em>
</p>
<p>“Oh I…spent the summer courting this one girl.” Fáinleog answered, suddenly embarrassed and glad the Prince could not see him blushing.</p>
<p>
  <em>Tell me about her. </em>
</p>
<p>Fáinleog very much wanted to avoid that, but how could he refuse his Prince, who had nothing else?</p>
<p>“Well, she was beautiful” he admitted. “Delicate. She liked the rain. We danced often together, but… it was shallow. I knew deep down I was always going to leave. I don’t think I was truly in love.”</p>
<p>
  <em>Have you ever been in love? Truly?</em>
</p>
<p>“I…it’s hard to say. I’ve liked a lot of people. I didn’t like boys- or, I didn’t think I did. But the boys I met were cruel, or disrespectful. I think I might love a kind boy.” He was glad the golden face on the screen could not tell he was looking right at it.</p>
<p>
  <em>How do you know whether it’s love or merely liking?</em>
</p>
<p>“I think… I think the person you love is the person you stay for.”</p>
<p>Fáinleog fell asleep with those words. When he woke the next morning, he knew it was time to put his plan into action, while he still had the strength. He climbed out to his ship. From the roof of the tower, he could see much of the town below. There was evidence of riots and chaos everywhere he looked. With the watchful eyes removed and hope stirred, the people were waking up. But what could they do, a poor village swirling within itself? No. He looked out to the glimmering heights of <em>Sans-Souci</em>, where all the town’s happiness was being hoarded like so many jewels. </p>
<p>He set an autopilot course in the navigation system, and watched the <em>Swallow </em>fly off without him. It made a single, wide loop above the city, catching eyes and ears. And then, in a steep nosedive, crashed right into the palace’s fortress walls. The explosive charges the miner had gifted him, and the last dredges of the ships’ fuel, went up in a massive flash of fire, thunder and smoke. The explosion blew a hole the size of a house into the defensive wall.</p>
<p>Stumbling back downstairs, he held himself up near the monitor.</p>
<p>“My Prince” he whispered, and started into that golden light, those glimmering eyes, that soft smile. “I’m sorry, but I’m leaving you.”</p>
<p>
  <em>I know. I wish I could go with you.</em>
</p>
<p>“It is love that you wish to travel for me. And it was love that made me stay for you. But now I can’t stay any longer, even though I want to.”</p>
<p>
  <em>You’ve stayed too long already; Go, enjoy yourself. Merely remember me. </em>
</p>
<p>“I’m afraid it isn’t to another planet that I’m going, but to that long sleep this tower shields you from. Merely remember me.” And with that, Fáinleog kissed the screen, feeling a moment of warmth against his lips as he died.</p>
<p>In the dead silence, something cracked deep within the mechanical body of the Prince. The screen began glitching, servos and fans angrily whirring, sing-song voice repeating</p>
<p>
  <em>I wish I could go with you. </em>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>The riots swelled over the next few days. The police could not keep order in the streets. The nobility was quickly overwhelmed by the reality they had ignored and shut themselves away from. Mobs swarmed the walls of <em>Sans-Souci</em>. Everything was stripped bare. They peeled off every flake of gold leaf with their bare hands. In the frenzy, the tower was overrun too. The Prince said nothing as the servers were dismantled. The metals in every casing, every wire, every circuit board were melted down and repurposed. One motherboard, with a deep crack running through it, proved impossible to salvage and was merely thrown out. Fáinleog, unrecognized by those that found his body, was thrown into a mass grave with the other vagrants and poor the cold had claimed. Years later, the Happy Prince and the Swallow would be remembered only in the stories people told of revolution, and graffiti of swallows in flight.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you for reading! This is my first fan fiction in six years, and my first on Ao3 period. So feedback is very much appreciated, especially with regards to technical details like tagging.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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